


Devour What's Truly Yours

by Llama1412



Series: Tempt Not a Desperate Man [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Breathplay, Choking, Deepthroating, Enemies to Lovers, Face-Fucking, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Sex Pollen, pillow princess Roche
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26088172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412
Summary: When Roche discovers Iorveth inside a magical circle of flowers with pollen that makes you feel good, he was not at all prepared to find out what they had to do before they could leave.
Relationships: Iorveth/Vernon Roche
Series: Tempt Not a Desperate Man [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1894063
Comments: 24
Kudos: 132





	Devour What's Truly Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Kink Bingo prompt "chains/locks"  
> Thanks to WitcherSexual for the title!

Roche had scouted ahead, separating himself from his unit. That would turn out to be a bad decision. Or a good one, depending on one’s point of view, he supposed. On the one hand, he was in the middle of a field of flowers that were making him act strange. On the other hand, his men _weren’t_ here, which was good. 

Except that they might choose to follow him. He hoped that Ves had the sense to order them to stay put, because the idea of them seeing him like this was horrifying.

And just plain embarrassing.

Like this, specifically, meant rolling around in the flowers with Iorveth, his sworn enemy and general bane of his existence. 

It hadn’t started strange. He’d scouted ahead and had actually found the Scoia’tael camp. What he _hadn’t_ found was Iorveth, and Roche had been unwilling to have his unit make their move without knowing what that conniving old elf was up to.

So Roche had marked the camp’s location on the map in his mind, then he’d ventured further into the woods. It had taken time, but eventually, he had found Iorveth standing in a field of flowers – the same flowers they rolled in now. 

If he’d been smart, he would have turned back then. But the sight of Iorveth had been so strange, it had seemed necessary to leave the shadows of the trees and venture into the field. But moving closer only confirmed that yes, Iorveth was naked. Absolutely buck naked, just standing in the middle of a field and grinning up at the sky.

“What the fuck?” Roche had been startled enough to say. And that was when Iorveth turned to look at him and Roche was distracted by the sight of Iorveth’s scar in all its glory without the bandana to hide it. That was the only reason Iorveth was able to get the drop on him and _pounce._

Roche’s sword was knocked out of his hand, and he was pushed back into the flowers as the momentum of Iorveth’s leap pushed them into a rough roll. Roche tried to fight, tried to get the upper hand without touching anything delicate, but Iorveth appeared to have no such compunctions and his hands grabbed at anywhere that would give him the advantage. Roche did _not_ squeak, but he did unfortunately get pinned by Iorveth. And the elf was damn strong, his fingers wrapping around Roche’s wrists and dragging them above his head, pressing the length of their bodies together.

It should have been a weak position, easy for Roche to break Iorveth’s hold. But something stopped him from moving – his shock at the feel of Iorveth against him, perhaps, or whatever was affecting Iorveth, because something must be. That was surely it. That was all that was making shudders travel down his spine.

“You stupid dh'oine,” Iorveth swore. “Why would you wander in here? You couldn’t have taken a second to notice the perfectly circular field of flowers in the middle of a dense forest!?”

Now that Iorveth mentioned it, he could feel that faint hum in the air that he associated with the Triss Merigold about to cast a spell. “Fuck.”

Iorveth laughed, and it wasn’t a pretty sound. “Fuck indeed, Vernon. For that is what you are now expected to do.”

“What!?” His voice came out embarrassingly high pitched and the corner of Iorveth’s mouth ticked up.

“No one was supposed to interrupt,” Iorveth sighed. “It’s a ritual. Tribute to the forest to protect my people from monsters. It was supposed to just be me. But now you’ve crossed the circle. You’re part of this now.” There was actually a measure of pity in Iorveth’s eyes as he looked down at Roche, and that was unacceptable.

“What exactly is _this_ and why does it require you to be naked?”

“It’s something about life essence and the exchange of power in magic, but the important thing is that any in the circle are required to – um,” Iorveth looked nervous for the first time Roche had ever seen and he felt the first stirrings of fear. Maybe he had gotten in over his head.

“What?”

“Have sex,” Iorveth bit out. “They’re required to have sex.”

Roche’s brain felt like it shut down for several minutes. Unfortunately, when he opened his eyes, Iorveth still hovered over him, chuckling roughly at Roche’s reaction. 

“Sorry,” he shrugged, “but this is kind of your fault.” Iorveth leaned back and Roche was struck with just how long the elf’s arms were when he was able to sit half upright and still keep Roche’s hands pinned above his head. 

Roche scowled at him. “You were alone, though. Who the fuck were you going to–?”

“I have a hand,” Iorveth said, an amused smirk stretching his crooked lips. 

Roche blushed like he was an untried virgin and he cursed himself for it. “Right,” he cleared his throat. 

Iorveth actually laughed, the sound just as grating as before. Still, it somehow suited the elf, who was a little more damaged than any other elf Roche had met. Not that he’d met many, except at the end of his blade, but elves seemed to have a weird thing about beauty. Why else would Iorveth hide his scars from the world?

They truly were terrible scars, though. One cut across his cheek and that one Roche had expected. The edges of it were visible when Iorveth spoke, after all. But the gouged out eye was a shock. He’d known Iorveth must have lost vision in it, but to see the stark proof of it...it made something in his belly twist and churn.

Iorveth’s face no longer bore a smirk. Now, he gazed down at Roche with a thoughtful frown. “It disgusts many,” he said in a low, gravely voice. “Yet I’ve never seen quite that face before.”

Roche swallowed. “I didn’t give you that,” he said, and the words came out as a shaky question. He couldn’t be wholly sure and suddenly the idea of having hurt Iorveth so deeply, so permanently, so _visibly,_ horrified him. 

Iorveth tilted his head, a strange expression on his face. “The dh’oine who did this are long dead. Dead before your father’s father was born.”

Roche couldn’t help his flinch, and Iorveth definitely noticed. Roche cleared his throat and glared up at his enemy. “That means little, as I’ve never known my father.” He could hear the stiffness in his own voice, and if _he_ could, then Iorveth could too. Dammit, of all the openings to give away, why did it have to be that one?

But even though he’d visibly hit a nerve, Iorveth didn’t pursue it. He didn’t taunt or tease Roche about his father, just nodded and shifted his weight against Roche’s wrists. Which abruptly reminded Roche that Iorveth was naked and had apparently been planning to masturbate in a field of flowers before he’d interrupted.

“What _exactly_ do I have to do?” he asked weakly. 

“Getting off is the only requirement,” Iorveth said. “If you swear not to be an idiot and break the circle and consign us both to death, I’ll let you go.”

“Don’t,” Roche’s mouth said before his thoughts caught up. He immediately bit his lip, flushing crimson, and Iorveth stared down at him in surprise. 

Then, testingly, he tightened his fingers around Roche’s wrists and Roche was not at all expecting the way that made him gasp, his eyes rolling back in his head.

He could hear Iorveth swallow, feel the way he squirmed above Roche’s hips. “The flowers,” Iorveth said, “their pollen loosens inhibitions. Makes it feel good to ask for what you want.”

“Oh fuck,” Roche gulped. He really _was_ in over his head. All because he had to see what the damned elf was up to.

Except that wasn’t it at all, was it? He’d wanted to find Iorveth because fighting with Iorveth was his favorite part of any mission. And he’d...well, he’d wanted to see Iorveth. Just to make sure everything was all right.

Which it wasn’t, because Roche tried very hard never to think about these things, but now they kept bubbling up every time he tried to push them down. “When you say it makes you feel good to ask–?”

“I mean,” Iorveth’s breath was suddenly puffing against Roche’s face, “that when I ask you how you want to get off, you’re going to enjoy telling me.”

Roche twitched, teeth digging into his lip. He didn’t know what he might ask and that scared him. When had he become uncertain about what he wanted from Iorveth? When had wanting to pin him under his blade turned into wanting to slice off his ridiculous collar and armor until Iorveth was left as bare as Roche felt. 

“So,” Iorveth growled, “what do you want, Vernon Roche?”

“Fuck me,” he heard himself say and the immediate urge to bury himself six feet under was overwhelmed by the heat of pleasure that trickled down his spine. “Oh,” he breathed, “that does feel good.”

He opened his eyes to see Iorveth staring down at him with his eye wide and shocked. Right, Roche swallowed. He’d...asked for that. Out loud. Was this a nightmare?

Roche grit his teeth. He wouldn’t be alone in getting caught off guard and revealing things he’d rather not. “What do you want, Iorveth?”

“I want to make you scream my name.” 

Roche scoffed, ignoring the way the intent in Iorveth’s eye made his mouth dry. “I don’t scream.”

Iorveth smirked. “Bet I could change that.”

“Ha! You and what army?”

“I’ve centuries of experience,” Iorveth huffed. “I am quite certain I’ve learned something that will make you scream.”

“Hmph. I’d like to see you try.” Roche tilted his chin challengingly, and a slow smirk spread across Iorveth’s face.

“Would you now?” He murmured, leaning close into Roche’s space, his fingers flexing around Roche’s wrists. “The things I could do to you, Vernon,” he said against Roche’s cheek and Roche shuddered at the sound of his name on Iorveth’s lips.

Iorveth was the only one who ever called him Vernon. He usually preferred being referred to as Roche, but there was something intoxicating about Iorveth being special, Iorveth being the only one.

“Do them,” he dared and Iorveth’s teeth flashed. 

The elf rolled his hips against Roche’s and the rough fabric of his Blue Stripes uniform had to be uncomfortable against Iorveth’s skin, but fuck if watching Iorveth’s cock slide against his tunic wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever seen. 

“Don’t move,” Iorveth ordered and even though part of Roche wanted to disobey on principle, there was actually something soothing about being told what to do, about knowing what was expected of him. He stayed still, even as Iorveth released his wrists and sat up, wiggling down Roche’s legs until he could push the tunic and chainmail aside. The slit in Roche’s armor was intended to let him ride a horse, but he was suddenly a much bigger fan of this application as Iorveth scrabbled at his belt until the elf could rip away his hose, leaving him exposed. 

“Boots,” Roche wiggled his feet, because there was no way they could do this with his hose around his ankles. Iorveth rolled his eyes, but obligingly started unbuckling Roche’s boots. “Leave my socks.” At Iorveth’s cocked brow, Roche shrugged, hands still carefully unmoving above his head, “my feet get cold. It’s distracting.”

“Mmm, wouldn’t want you to be distracted,” Iorveth smirked and finally, Roche’s boots were pulled off and his legs were left bare, aside from his woolen socks.

Roche could feel himself flushing down his chest as Iorveth looked him over assessingly, but he took the opportunity to eye the elf in exchange. Iorveth was slim and lithe, with deceptively strong arms – he was an archer, after all – and legs that went on for miles that Roche had definitely never pictured wrapped around his waist. Iorveth’s cock, which Roche had initially thought was the same as a human’s, was actually rather different. It was a comparable length to Roche’s but while the base was wide and thick, his cock tapered in towards the tip. It also had spiraling ridges that appeared to leak some sort of slippery substance, based on the wet marks left behind on Roche’s tunic. 

He’d honestly never thought about elven anatomy before, but Roche found himself desperately wanting to feel those ridges with his tongue. They would almost certainly feel delightful inside him. 

Roche shivered and brought his gaze back to Iorveth’s. Overall, the elf probably wouldn’t be called pretty by anyone else, but for some reason, it was the only word Roche could think of. 

And then it was hard to think because Iorveth decided that his visual inspection wasn’t enough, and long, slim fingers wrapped around Roche’s cock, stroking with a loose grip. 

“I want,” Iorveth licked his lips, looking down at Roche. Roche couldn’t stop looking at where those fingers wrapped around him. “I want to tie you up with that stupid chain.”

“It’s not stupid,” Roche frowned to cover the way the thought made heat coil in his belly.

“It is so stupid.” Iorveth returned because he always had to have the last word. The hand that wasn’t wrapped around Roche’s cock hovered over the chain. “Yeah?”

“Fuck, yes, do it,” Roche arched at the bolt of pleasure that admitting what he wanted sent shooting down his spine. 

Iorveth’s grin showed his teeth and he abandoned Roche’s cock to pull the chain from around Roche’s neck. Then, he crawled up Roche’s body, intentionally brushing against sensitive skin, and straddled Roche’s chest, sitting right where the chain’s emblem previously rested. He delicately picked up Roche’s wrists with murmured praise for following orders and wrapped the chain around one and then the other, binding his hands together. 

Roche was glad he was laying down, because Iorveth’s praise made his knees feel oddly weak and stumbling in front of his enemy would be unacceptable. The weight of the chains around his wrists felt strangely soothing and Roche found himself wanting more, the same way he had when Iorveth had held him down. 

To distract himself from thinking about his apparent love for being tied up, Roche tilted his head down to his chest until he was able to lick across the head of Iorveth’s cock. The sound Iorveth made and the way he shuddered made Roche smirk, sticking out his tongue to reach more of Iorveth. The brief taste he’d gotten had been unusually sweet and he needed more. 

Because it was important to understand anatomical differences, of course, not because he was gagging to have that tapered tip in the back of his throat. 

Iorveth grabbed his chaperone, using it to pull his head back before jerking it off entirely. “You could just ask, you know.”

Roche rolled his eyes. “Gods, you’re such a jackass. Just let me suck your cock.”

It wasn’t fair the way the pollen made his whole body shudder with euphoria, but even worse was the approving look in Iorveth’s eye. 

He wanted more. 

Fortunately, Iorveth gave it to him, shuffling closer until Roche no longer had to strain his neck to reach. He flicked his tongue across the tip of Iorveth’s cock. Unlike the human cocks he was used to, Iorveth’s cockhead wasn’t wet with drops of precum. Instead, all the slick seemed to come from the ridges that spiraled from the base to the tip. When he opened his mouth to let Iorveth feed his cock inside, Roche could feel the bumps of the ridges across his tongue.

He closed his lips around the base of the cock and sucked lightly, exploring the shape of it with his tongue. Iorveth gasped sharply when he sucked, and Roche wondered if elves did this differently. Even if they did, the suction clearly felt good, because Iorveth moaned loudly, clutching at his head. The brush of Iorveth’s fingers over his scalp felt surprisingly nice, so Roche sucked harder in reward. 

“Oh fuck, Vernon!” Iorveth gasped and Roche could feel slickness gathering on his tongue.

Personally, he wouldn’t do this if he didn’t enjoy the taste of cock, the musk of sweat and the saltiness of precum. Iorveth’s slick tasted completely different but he actually thought he might like it better. It was sweet without turning cloying on his tongue, and tracing directly along one of the ridges where the slick was coming from made Iorveth thrust his hips with a curse.

If Roche could have grinned, he would have. There was something entirely tantalizing about driving the elf to lose control, and it was nice to know that he could have that effect. Especially since Iorveth definitely had that effect on him.

Roche hummed, encouraging Iorveth to thrust deeper until he could swallow around his mouthful. Iorveth’s back arched and Roche would swear until his dying day that the elf whimpered. Iorveth would deny it, of course, but Roche would always know that he’d made Iorveth whimper.

The pride in his chest felt bright and happy, and any disgust he may have felt at himself for wanting this melted away at the feeling. Maybe this was strange and unexpected, but what did it matter when he was capable of making Iorveth let out those noises and lose control.

Iorveth curled around his head, panting for breath. “As – fuck – as incredible as this is, I believe I promised you something else.”

Roche moaned, and as Iorveth withdrew, the ridges of his cock spilled wet slick over Roche’s mouth and chin. He licked his lips, closing his eyes to savour the taste, and the next thing he knew, there was a hand tilting his jaw up and Iorveth was licking into his mouth. Iorveth chased the taste of himself and Roche’s eyes fluttered at the way this ridiculous elf overwhelmed his senses and made it so enjoyable to let Iorveth take control. He yielded with a moan and Iorveth rewarded him by wrapping a hand around his cock.

Iorveth drew back, but before Roche had a chance to catch his breath, he was diving in again, sucking Roche’s bottom lip into his mouth. Roche did _not_ let out a soft sound, but he did jerk his wrists against the chains, head falling back with a gasp when he couldn’t get free. Iorveth tilted his head and stared down at him, and fingers traced delicately down his exposed throat.

“You are far too trusting, Vernon,” Iorveth scolded, but rather than reach for a weapon, he bent down to suck a mark onto Roche’s neck. “The things I could do with you helpless below me.”

Roche scoffed. He was certainly at a disadvantage if Iorveth tried to kill him, but he was hardly helpless. Still, a trickle of fear tried to challenge his pleasure. He grit his teeth against it. He’d been in worse situations, injured and weaponless and truly helpless before Iorveth’s blade. Yet Iorveth had never taken the opportunity. It was how they worked – fighting and cursing each other, but never killing, because then someone unknown would just take the other’s place. And, Roche could admit, he would miss sparring with Iorveth if he did end things. He suspected Iorveth felt likewise.

Iorveth’s thumb traced across his Adam's apple until it came to rest on his pulse. Iorveth’s fingers didn’t tighten, didn’t choke him, but they _could._

They wouldn’t, though. Not unless he had to make a fast getaway and even then, Roche trusted that he would do no lasting damage. It wasn’t that he didn’t take the threat of getting choked into unconsciousness seriously. It was just – well, he genuinely didn’t think Iorveth _would._

Roche swallowed, feeling the pressure against his throat, and said, “So fuck me already.”

Iorveth grinned, a lopsided stretch of lips that curled his scar. Roche knew what those lips felt like against his own. He licked his lips, and Iorveth rewarded him by leaning down, hand still wrapped around his throat, and brushing their lips together. 

“Always surprising me,” Iorveth murmured against his mouth.

“Good.” Roche said, tilting his head to be the tease for once. “Now fuck me!”

Iorveth nipped at his lips and pulled back, fingers sliding away from his throat. Iorveth stared down at Roche and stroked his own cock until his fingers were coated in slick. Roche found himself hypnotized watching a drop of slick slide slowly down Iorveth’s left ring finger until it dripped down onto his tunic, slowly soaking into the fabric. He wondered if Iorveth wanted to ruin his uniform the way he occasionally wanted to ruin Iorveth’s armor. Until this moment, he’d never considered he might like the reverse. It felt like sacrilege to want that, to want Iorveth to paint his pleasure over the Temerian Lilies.

Roche swallowed, trying not to think about what his king would think of him now, letting himself get teased and groped by an elf. He owed everything to King Foltest and he considered himself lucky to be counted amongst the King’s friends. But no one could deny that Foltest hated nonhumans on a deep and visceral level. Roche would be cast out and humiliated if his king ever found out. He swallowed harshly. 

“Hey,” Iorveth barked, gripping his chin and forcing his focus back onto the elf. “You’re the one that asked, you don’t get to zone out for this.” 

This, Roche realized with a slight flinch at the contact, was Iorveth’s fingers, covered in slick from the elf’s own cock brushing against his hole. 

“So hold my attention,” he challenged, wondering when exactly Iorveth had come to be kneeling between his spread legs. “You have done this before, haven’t you?”

Iorveth snorted. “Many times, since before you were born, Vernon. Never with a dh’oine until now, but the basics seem to translate.” His fingers brushed across Roche’s hole, pressing and playing but never quite applying enough pressure to broach him. “And you? Do this often?”

“Often enough that you can _get on with it!”_ Roche snarled, attempting to rock back against his fingers.

Iorveth chuckled, using his free hand to cup Roche’s thigh and raise it, first to his mouth for a soft kiss that made Roche gasp, then higher until his muscles strained and he was entirely exposed. The unexpected softness made Roche’s breath hitch, but he blamed that on the way Iorveth’s finger pressed inside him at that moment.

He closed his eyes with a contented sigh. The truth was, he _didn’t_ get to do this often, though he’d been fortunate of late. It was hard to find willing and interested companions when his work so often had his unit camping out in forests. And while yes, he _could_ get involved with his men, there was no better way to fuck up a chain of command than to bring in sex. In a contest between his libido and his work, commanding the Blue Stripes would win every time.

Recently, however, they hadn’t been camped out in the middle of nowhere. His whole unit had spent the last week in Vizima and Roche had eagerly taken advantage, indulging in all the things he couldn’t have on the road. Which meant that he really didn’t need much prep, and dammit, he wanted to get fucked already.

“For fuck’s sake, hurry up!” he snarled.

Iorveth bit the back of his thigh, making him jump. “In a rush, Vernon?”

In point of fact, he probably should get back to his unit before too long, but Ves was in charge, and she was also used to him going out scouting as a way to sort out his thoughts. She probably wouldn’t come searching for him unless he was gone all evening.

“Why would I rush things when I have you in my grasp?” Iorveth asked, sucking a mark over the skin he’d bitten.

Roche shivered. When was the last time he’d let someone take their time with him? When was the last time someone had _wanted_ to? “Well, when you put it like that.”

Iorveth hummed, shifting his finger until he brushed over that spot that made lighting spark behind Roche’s eyes. “Dh’oine aren’t so different after all,” he chuckled.

“Noted.” Roche bucked his hips, pressing back against the finger inside him. 

Iorveth obligingly stroked over that spot with slow, circling movements until precum welled up from Roche’s cock and dribbled down the shaft. The elf made a considering sound and then bent down and laved his tongue over the precum. Iorveth pulled back, a look on his face like he was assessing the taste, and the low pleased noise he made had another spurt of precum dripping down Roche’s cock. Iorveth quickly dove back down to lap it up, tilting his head to make eye contact with Roche.

“Fuck, now, another,” he bit off the _please_ before it could escape, but the simple fact that he wanted to beg had him floundering in the wave of pleasure from the pollen. 

Iorveth pulled his finger out and stroked himself to get more slick. Then he pressed two fingers slowly and steadily inside Roche.

Roche arched with a moan, throwing his head back. 

Iorveth pushed his other thigh up and out until his back curled cut the slightest bit off the ground. It wasn’t a position he would be able to hold on his own for very long, but Iorveth didn’t seem to care as he easily held Roche open. Iorveth ducked down to lick around his balls, then his perineum, and then finally, in between the two fingers inside Roche.

“Oh fuck, Iorveth!” He gasped.

Iorveth huffed in amusement against him. “I’ve been told,” he said, “that elven tongues are longer than a human’s.” The elf thrust his fingers in deep, rubbing against that sensitive spot. “Do you have the experience to compare?”

Before Roche could gather his thoughts to reply, Iorveth plunged his tongue inside Roche, fingers holding him open. Roche writhed wildly, the chain around his wrists and Iorveth’s hand on his thigh the only thing keeping him in place.

It had been a long time since Roche had done this with anyone, but he was already very certain that it was indeed true that elven tongues were longer than human ones. More agile too, warm and wet and flexing inside him.

Fuck, he’d forgotten how good this could feel, each lick sending pleasure coursing through his veins and he could feel the way his body loosened, relaxed into Iorveth’s hold until the elf was the only thing holding him up.

It didn’t seem to strain him at all as Iorveth withdrew and then thrust four fingers inside Roche, pulling him wide open. He made a soft mewling sound at how exposed he felt and the way it made his pulse race faster. Iorveth thrust his tongue in alongside the fingers and Roche shuddered.

“Fuck, _please,”_ he heard himself beg, but he felt too good to even be bothered by it.

“Bet you could fit my fist,” Iorveth whispered against him and he moaned brokenly.

“Later, gods,” he rolled his head against the grass as Iorveth’s fingers rubbed little circles inside him that hand lightning sparking across his limbs. “Fuck me, Iorveth.” He tilted his chin until he could make eye contact with Iorveth and enunciated clearly. “Please.”

Iorveth shuddered and then Roche was left empty as Iorveth surged up to kiss him with the same tongue that had been deep inside him. Roche hooked the leg that Iorveth wasn’t holding open around Iorveth’s waist, tugging him closer. Iorveth moved with him, thrusting against him in a slow roll, still teasing him.

Roche snarled, biting Iorveth’s tongue spitefully. Iorveth laughed against him but he did reach down to guide himself inside Roche.

“Oh,” he gasped, feeling Iorveth slide inside him until the first ridge pressed against his hole. This was the thinnest part of Iorveth’s cock and fuck, he shuddered at how much more was to come. 

Iorveth pushed forward, and the ridge popped inside him, spreading slick against his rim. Iorveth’s cock gradually grew larger the further he got inside Roche, and the ridges pushed his rim wide again and again until Roche was rolling his own hips down to take Iorveth in further.

When Iorveth’s pelvis pressed against his ass, they were both panting desperately, Iorveth’s forehead resting against his. Roche squeezed around him and they both shuddered violently.

“Fuck, you’re so hot around me,” Iorveth murmured, rolling his hips in small circles. 

“Gods, move, _please,”_ Roche demanded.

Iorveth bit his lip and pulled out until only the tip remained inside Roche. Then he stopped, just holding there for a long moment until Roche decided enough was enough. He clenched his thighs to pull Iorveth into him at the same time he thrust down and Iorveth shoved deep inside him, drawing a wanton moan from his lips. Iorveth grinned, tilting his head to suck Roche’s bottom lip into his mouth before he was holding Roche up and shifting him so that he could rise to his knees.

“Ask for it,” Iorveth said, looking down at him with a blazing hot gaze.

Roche rolled his eyes, ignoring the way the growl in Iorveth’s voice made him shiver. He tilted his chin challengingly, meeting Iorveth’s gaze. “Show me that legendary elven strength, Iorveth. Let’s see if you actually can make me scream.”

Iorveth gripped his hips with bruising strength, holding him up and fucking into him hard. Roche moaned, letting his body go limp. If Iorveth wanted to try to drive him wild, he wasn’t going to help the elf. Let Iorveth prove his prowess on his own. 

Roche had to admit, he was starting to believe Iorveth might actually succeed.

If he’d ever given it any previous thought, he might have assumed that sex with another species would be unpleasant, incompatible. 

He would have been wrong. Roche had never felt this good, this overwhelmed with pleasure and heat and Iorveth’s green eye. 

“Fuck, look at you,” Iorveth panted, rutting into him rapidly. “You love this.”

Roche shuddered in delight, moaning loudly when Iorveth pulled him a little bit higher and thrust into him just the slightest bit deeper. “Fuck,” he gasped, “if your men hear me–” because he was starting to think that Iorveth really might drive him to screaming pleasure and he very much wanted to find out.

“They can’t,” Iorveth pulled Roche’s calf over his shoulder, pressing a quick kiss to the knob of his ankle. “Magic circle, remember? Sound can’t get through.”

Roche’s next word was lost in a moan, and Iorveth smirked in satisfaction. Roche scoffed at him and squeezed around his cock.

“Make me scream,” Roche challenged and Iorveth took to the task with dedication, thrusting into him hard and deep, every motion sending fiery tingles across his body. 

His head fell back and he could hear loud, shapeless sounds escaping him and made no move to stop them. Iorveth had earned them and continued to earn them as he leaned down, folding Roche in half and licking up his chest. When Iorveth sank his teeth into Roche’s shoulder, it forced a high-pitched wail from his throat. After that, he couldn’t seem to _stop_ making noise as Iorveth thrust deep into him and sucked at the skin of his shoulder. There would be a mark there for certain, and Roche surprised himself by wanting that on a visceral level, wanting to have evidence that this bizarre evening was real. 

“Ior–” his lips attempted to shape the elf’s name, but halfway through, he was interrupted by Iorveth wrapping fingers around his cock, holding it against Iorveth’s own abdomen. The muscles of Iorveth’s stomach were firm against him, the elf all coiled, lithe strength.

“Look at you, screaming for elven cock,” Iorveth said and his words were perhaps meant to be an insult, but there was a low sense of awe in his voice that made Roche moan instead. “Fuck, you take me like you were made for this.”

Roche jerked against the chain holding his wrists in place. If they’d been free, he would have scratched them down Iorveth’s back, drawing the elf closer to him. 

“Desperate to be fucked,” Iorveth chucked in a deep voice and suddenly, instead of slamming into him, the elf was moving his hips in slow, sensuous movements. The sound Roche made was high pitched and loud, and the small part of his mind that could still think was glad that only he and Iorveth would ever know he made it. 

Iorveth gripped his chin in one hand, biting down harshly on his bottom lip before sucking it almost apologetically. Roche found himself still making noises, even though they were muffled by Iorveth’s mouth and his face and chest flushed even more.

“Don’t hide,” Iorveth ordered. “You’ve never pretended with me. Don’t start now.”

Roche laughed brokenly. No, he’d never been very good at hiding the way he enjoyed the _challenge_ Iorveth presented him. No other Scoia’tael commander had fared so well against him – just as no other Special Forces commander had fared so well against Iorveth. Perhaps they were made for each other, in certain ways.

“Fuck, Iorveth,” he gasped, tilting his head to ask for a proper kiss.

Iorveth obliged, fucking into his mouth as slowly as he rocked his cock into Roche’s body. Roche whined around Iorveth’s tongue, sucking on it sloppily. How was it that Iorveth managed to be both domineering and gentle? Every harsh touch made his cock jump, but the way each was followed by gentle lips and a soothing tongue had something warm blooming in his chest.

Teeth dug into the skin above his pulse and Roche could feel his body jerk and arch. Fuck, he was so close, he just needed – 

“Choke me, _please,”_ he begged and the hot tension in his belly coiled tighter.

Iorveth inhaled sharply and wrapped his fingers around Roche’s throat, squeezing just the slightest bit. “You,” he whispered, but didn’t seem to have anything to follow it with. 

Iorveth nipped at Roche’s chin and then licked into his mouth at the same time as he slammed into him hard, driving the breath out of his lungs in a scream that Iorveth swallowed. Iorveth still held his cock against Iorveth’s own stomach, and the head caught on a scar across his abs, sending a shock of sensation up Roche’s spine. Before he knew it, he was coming in spurts over Iorveth’s stomach and chest, even as high as the elf’s chin.

Iorveth seemed to take that as a compliment, grinning as his tongue flicked down to taste it. He’d stopped moving when Roche had come, though the slight tremble in his limbs betrayed that it wasn’t easy to stay still. Roche squeezed around him, shuddering at the slightly _too much_ sensation.

“Fuck,” Iorveth swore, curling his torso to avoid getting anything on Roche’s uniform. It was strangely courteous and Roche did appreciate it, but also – 

“Help me out of this,” he shifted his shoulder weakly to indicate his armor. Iorveth took a deep breath before pulling out of him, and Roche couldn’t help the disappointed sound that escaped him.

Iorveth huffed in amusement and pushed his tunic and mail up, physically lifting his shoulder when it became apparent he couldn’t rise on his own. The easy way Iorveth moved his body, as if it weren’t even a feat of strength to the elf had Roche’s blood running hot.

Finally, Iorveth shucked the Blue Stripes armor to the side, the chain now loose around Roche’s wrists. Then he flopped down to ground on his back, still naked, hard, and covered in Roche’s cum. The elf stroked himself idly, his eyes fluttering closed as if they were done when one of them was still unsatisfied!

Well, that just wouldn’t do. Roche bullied trembling muscles into moving far enough so that he could slap away Iorveth’s hands and lower his mouth down Iorveth’s cock. Iorveth jerked in surprise, hands scrabbling at his head.

Roche didn’t quite have the energy to show off his oral skills, but he could let gravity push himself down Ioreth’s cock until it was deep in his throat, swallowing around it.

“Oh fuck, Vernon!” Iorveth’s hips bucked and Roche moaned around his mouthful, reveling in the full body twitch that got him. 

He flicked his eyes open to meet Iorveth’s and swallowed deliberately again. Iorveth’s eye went wide and when the elf thrust up into his mouth, Roche closed his eyes in bliss. 

Iorveth murmured something in Elder Speech, holding Roche’s head against himself and rocking up forcefully. Roche's throat would be bruised, his voice hoarse when he returned to camp and he found himself looking forward to that, to having evidence of this secret. 

Despite the fact that he very much wasn’t young anymore, his cock let him know that it very much appreciated this treatment and would also like some friction itself. Roche rocked his hips down, shuddering at the way the blades of grass tickled along him.

“Fuck, you really do love this.” There was awe and delight and pure feral lust in Iorveth’s voice and it made Roche clench around nothing, wishing he could be filled on both ends at once by Iorveth. Iorveth was panting breathily, neck curled up to watch the way Roche drooled around his cock, the way he ground his hips into the forest floor, desperate for anything.

“Vernon,” Iorveth gasped and came down Roche’s throat.

Roche stayed in place, swallowing and suckling the length in his mouth until Iorveth bodily dragged him off with a groan. With just the grip on the back of his skull, Iorveth dragged Roche up until he could trace everywhere his cock had been with his tongue.

When he pulled back, they rested their foreheads against each other, gasping for breath. 

“This never happened,” Iorveth panted.

“Agreed.” Roche said, then licked his lips. “Can it not happen again?”

Iorveth snorted. “Fuck it. Why not?”

“Good.” Roche shifted around until he could reach back and guide Iorveth’s still-hard cock inside him again. “This time, I expect you to finish.”

Iorveth’s nostrils flared even as his eyelid fluttered as Roche sank down on him. Roche didn’t move once he was cradled in Iorveth’s hips. Instead, he cocked an eyebrow at Iorveth. The elf laughed, true delight in his eye. Then he gripped Roche’s hips and moved the man up and down on his cock.

Roche let his body go limp, perfectly happy to be moved wherever Iorveth wanted him as long as the pleasure winding up his spine continued. Iorveth braced his feet on the ground behind Roche, letting him rest back against the bent knees. And it was lovely, it was. 

But Roche wanted to be closer, wanted to feel Iorveth all along his body. He flopped forward onto Iorveth’s chest, changing the angle of Iorveth’s thrusts as the elf continued to fuck his hips up into Roche. Roche wasn’t tall enough to kiss Iorveth properly, but he could return some of the bites and marks Iorveth had left on him. Maybe the elf would like it as much as he had.

He sank his teeth into Iorveth’s shoulder and Iorveth’s breath caught around a moan. He felt like he was going out of his mind, liquid heat traveling through his veins, sweeping him away until the only thing that grounded him was his teeth against Iorveth’s skin. Iorveth’s hips thrust against him faster, and the elf was letting out quiet little gasping sounds that were driving Roche crazy. 

Muffled words spilled out of his mouth, even as he dug his teeth into Iorveth’s shoulder. “Iorveth, oh fuck, Iorveth, don’t stop,” Roche mumbled as he bit and sucked at Iorveth’s collarbone. “This is – fuck, Iorveth, _yes_ – gods, this is the best I’ve ever – _ah,”_ his whole body jolted against Iorveth’s when Iorveth’s hand came down with a solid _smack_ against his ass. “Fucking hell, never felt this good before.”

Iorveth’s chest rumbled against his as the elf purred out an approving sound. Iorveth slid his hand up Roche’s back from his ass to his neck, short nails dragging against the skin.

Roche wailed, hips squirming against Iorveth. Every shift and clench just increased the sensation and gods, he felt overwhelmed, engulfed in pleasure and delight and ecstasy, and all at the hands of his enemy. 

“Iorveth, fuck, never want this to end,” he gasped into the hollow of Iorveth’s throat, his hands coming up to slide through Iorveth’s surprisingly soft hair, “fuck Iorveth, I’m so close. Want you to fill me up, please, please, _oh!”_ Iorveth’s hand on his hip slid around until slim fingers were playing teasingly with his rim while Iorveth continued to fuck into him. One of Iorveth’s fingers traced the edge of his rim, right where Iorveth’s own cock thrust into him. “Oh fuck, yes, please, please, please,” Roche whimpered, and Iorveth moaned as his finger slipped inside next to his cock. 

Roche squeezed around Iorveth’s cock and his finger with a moan, and then suddenly Iorveth’s thumb was rubbing against the sensitive skin behind his balls and he was coming. 

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” he vaguely heard himself sobbing and Iorveth obediently kept rocking up into him.

It was too much and not enough and Roche floated in white hot pleasure and never wanted it to stop. He was absently aware that his face was wet with tears and his mouth was still babbling out pleas, but all he cared about was that Iorveth’s cock kept thrusting inside him, the fingers on his ass and his neck digging bruises into his skin as Iorveth grew desperate.

“Fuck, Vernon,” Iorveth moaned, neck arched, “Vernon, Vernon, I’m gonna–”

“Yessss,” Roche hissed, digging his teeth into the meat of Iorveth’s pec.

Iorveth arched with a loud keen and his cock flexed inside of Roche. Roche felt himself stretch wider as pulses of cum leaked from the ridges of Iorveth’s cock, an entirely new sensation that had him squirming and clenching. Iorveth’s breath hitched at that and his hips moved in rolls against Roche that gradually slowed until Iorveth was still underneath him, though he could hear the elf’s heart racing where his ear pressed against Iorveth’s chest. He shuddered, oversensitized and loving it while Iorveth panted desperately for air, limbs jerking and twitching every few moments. 

“Fuck,” Roche eventually sighed against Iorveth’s chest, not at all ready to move any time soon, but feeling capable of speech again. “That was–”

Iorveth just moaned brokenly. His fingers were stroking gently over Roche’s asscheek as if soothing him even while Iorveth’s cock kept him plugged full. Roche couldn’t help but chuckle, burying his face in Iorveth’s neck and letting himself enjoy the afterglow.

Eventually, Iorveth pulled out with a sigh and Roche clenched against the feeling of Iorveth’s cum leaking out of him. They were both an absolute mess and it only felt right that he be the one to get up and clean them off. So he pulled himself up on shaky legs and made his way back to where his armor was piled messily in the grass. The waterskin on his belt was easy to grab, but the need for something to clean them _with_ meant he would need to sacrifice some part of his clothing. He pursed his lips and picked up his chaperone with great reluctance. His poor hat, consigned to the fate of a rag. Still, he could roll the soiled parts up into the brim and keep it wearable. Well, for the short amount of time until he was able to acquire a new one, anyway. Getting cum out of felted wool would be a nightmare.

He turned back to Iorveth with his waterskin and chaperone in hand to find that the elf hadn’t moved at all, laying on his back with his eyes closed. Roche wet his chaperone and cleaned himself, then knelt down next to Iorveth. 

“So all it takes to wear out an elf is several rounds of spectacular sex, hmm?” he joked, wiping his chaperone across the mess on Iorveth’s neck and chest. Iorveth startled, body jerking and eye fluttering open in shock. “Uh, you okay?”

“Mm,” Iorveth hummed noncommittally.

Roche frowned at him, “what, you thought I was going to leave like that?”

“There’s little reason for you not to,” Iorveth said stiffly.

“Well, I’m not. My mother taught me to clean the messes I make, thank you very much.” He poured more water over his chaperone and dabbed at the drying cum on Iorveth’s stomach.

Iorveth arched a brow, “and here I thought you made a living cleaning up your king’s messes.”

Taken aback at Iorveth’s sudden venom, Roche dearly wished he’d taken the time to put his armor on while he’d been near it. He felt naked, vulnerable – and not only because he’d just had Iorveth’s cock in his ass. But if Iorveth was looking for a fight, he shouldn’t have fucked every bit of antagonism out of Roche, because he was feeling far too mellow to argue.

“That has been my role in the past, yes. But somehow I doubt you want to talk about King Foltest right now.” Once Iorveth was clean, he began rolling the soiled cloth up so that it wouldn’t touch him when he put the chaperone on.

“I–” Iorveth took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “No, not particularly.” Roche could see the way tense muscles started to loosen again and realized with a shock that Iorveth was deliberately putting aside his defenses, deliberately showing vulnerability.

Roche licked his lips, and when he saw Iorveth’s gaze dart down to watch, he couldn’t resist leaning down to lick into Iorveth’s mouth instead. Iorveth opened to him beautifully, sighing softly when Roche sucked on his lip. 

“I should,” Roche started to say, kissing Iorveth’s face in between words, “get back,” he pressed his lips to the curve of Iorveth’s nose, “to my camp.” Sentence finished, he claimed Iorveth’s lips once more, kiss turning hot and soft and deep.

“Mmhm,” Iorveth mumbled against him, hand curled around the back of his neck.

“Really,” he gasped, scattering kisses over Iorveth’s face and neck again, “my team will wonder where I am.”

“Then go,” Iorveth said as if he wasn’t leaning up on his elbow to kiss Roche back.

“Right,” he took his final taste, kissing Iorveth with a longing he hadn’t know he held. After tonight, they would pretend nothing had happened between them, but for now, he could take what he wanted from Iorveth.

When he pulled away, Iorveth’s took several moment to open his eye and Roche scanned his face, committing it all to memory even though he knew he shouldn’t.

Then he stood up and turned to don his armor again. Once dressed, he took a final look at Iorveth, still spread out across the grass and looking absolutely delectable. Roche clenched his fist, fingernails digging into his palm, and turned to leave.

“Vernon,” Iorveth called as he walked away, “this never happened.”

“Of course,” Roche nodded as if he wasn’t already positive that the memory of this night and the best sex he’d ever had in his life would haunt him forever. His walk back to camp and his sleep later that night proved that thoughts of Iorveth and pleasure were not to be easily shaken off.

And he still needed a new chaperone, dammit.


End file.
